


Todd's a Demon, Todd's a Devil, Todd's a ****-******* ********* *****

by Holy_Leonards



Category: Fallout 4, Todd Howard - Fandom
Genre: And in other lanes, And other misc. references, Attempted Sex, Crack, German, Language, M/M, Nuka World, Orgasm Denial, Potential Spoilers, Referencing 200 km/hr in the wrong lane, Romance Denial, The Final Straw, The straw that broke the beast with two backs, and at other speeds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 04:19:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7920265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Holy_Leonards/pseuds/Holy_Leonards
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Official leaked cut content from the Nuka World DLC.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Todd's a Demon, Todd's a Devil, Todd's a ****-******* ********* *****

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am not truly threatening to cartoonishly kill anyone in a campy fashion. This is all for laughs.

"Fuck!"

"That's the goal, sweetheart."

It'd been hours, and Nate was still fighting with Nick's pants. "The damn thing just won't come off!"

The synth inspected the area. Noting the claw mark damage done to his belt with a sneer. Metal fingers tugged at the zipper. "That's strange."

"Why won't they come off," Nate wailed. Pure exasperation tinted his voice.

"Maybe DiMA's got some answers."

Nate gasped. "We can't ask him. He's--" The man leaned in close. The lighting shifting dramatically. "He's a merderer."

"You're joking, right?"

"He's killed people!"

"You've killed people. I've killed people."

"I don't know about you, Nick, but I sure as Hell haven't killed anybody! Just robots, and Supermutants, and ghouls, and synt-- I mean ghouls."

The synth's eyes narrowed. "What about all those Gunners and Raiders?"

"Those were people!?"

"Mhm," Nick replied.

The man cursed under his breath.

He perked up. "Alright. Let's go ask DiMA what's wrong with your dick."

 

 

 

 

"Uh, Nate. I'm pretty sure this is the wrong way."

"No, this is the way to Nukaworld."

"DiMA isn't in Disn-- Fuck!-- Nukaworld, honey," Nick condescended condescendedly.

"I read his diary. Faraday's taking him this weekend."

"That's sweet."

Over the horizon, Nukaworld could be seen.

"Scheiße, this place is big," exclaimed Nate.

"You speak German?" The synth was taken (outback steakhouse) aback.

"Nein. I used to, though."

The smell of rotten cotten candy (randy) filled the air. "Oh! Ich habe hunger!" The man began sprinting towards the fairgrounds.

"What do you mean 'used to'?"

"I... haven't been very good at keeping up with DuoLingo." Extending his arm towards Nick, Nate added, "I got the app on my Pip-Boy. See?"

"Why don't you just... keep up on it?"

"Bitch, bitte!"

As the two approached Nukaworld, they were met by DiMA in a Mouse Ear hat, stuffing his face with a candy apple. His vinyl face sticky with caramel.

"Apfel," Nate tried to recall his German. Come on, Nate, think! Think! Der thinken!

DiMA's pale blue, veiny eyes turned sad. "What? I'm not an asshole."

"Nice hat," Nick commented.

"Back atcha," DiMA said in that sultry voice of his, winking. The little vixen.

Eyeing the other synth's electrical-tape coated limbs, Nick couldn't help but notice that DaME's legs went on for days.

"Nick, I will kill."

"What? Got a problem with me finding long-lasting love? You realize you're going to die of old age someday, and your whole life's going to feel like two weeks to me, right?

"No, I mean the Noir stuff."

"Noir's cool, douchebag."

"Enough fighting, you two," DiMA said airily. Like, Jesus, DiMA. Ever actually USE those vocal chords?

Faraday wrapped his arms around DiMA. "Please, don't get so worked up, DiMA. It hurts me to see you this way; Not just because you might kill someone and have me wipe your memory again."

Nate nudged Nick. "Sie ficken."

"Enough German!"

"Du bist doch cunt, Nicky."

"You're giving me a headache."

"Okay, fine. Deny me my practice."

"Just use DuoLingo!"

"If you two are finished," DiMA began in his best school-counselor voice, "could you tell me why you're here?"

"What? You own Nukaworld now, Mr. O'Neill?"

The synth looked hurt. "I just assumed you were on business, since this location is full of Raider gangs." Nate finally noticed the steady sound of gunfire within the park. A bullet hit DiMA's mouse ear hat.

Feeling the frayed hole, DiMA added, "And I understand you feel savvy, but do you truly expect people to get every reference you throw at them?"

"I can't believe you subscribe to that 'Only 90's Kids Remember' shit!"

"I am simply insisting you be more cautious. Your heavy reference-use could alienate some readers."

"What? Like people who don't remember Daria? They're 12. Fallout is rated seventeen and up. You do the math."

"I was hinting more towards inside jokes I've noticed you slipping into your writing."

Nate growled, unable to think of a single good comeback. DiMA was right, but Nate would never admit that. "I won't let you win!" He pointed a finger in the synth's face and barked, "Hey! Hey! Do that brand new thing!"

DiMA looked to Faraday, helpless. "I... do not know what to do in this situation."

"Answer me this, DiMA: How do we free the beast?"

"Oh!" A metal finger pointed from Nate to Nick, and back again. "You two are... having problems?"

Nate said, "I need answers. Give them to me, baby."

"My name not is 'baby,' Nate." DiMA analyzed the two men. "Have you tried the magic phrase?"

"The... magic phrase?"

The synth nodded, causing his head to roll off his shoulders, into Faraday's hands. From the calloused hands, DiMA answered. "It will free any penis from the confines of its denim prison."

"Tell us!"

"Dicks out for Harambe."

"Dicks... out for Harambe? Jesus, DiMA, and you accuse me of being a serial referencer!"

It worked, however. DiMA and Nate found themselves surrounded by a forest of penises. They saw dirty raider dongs, metalic dongbots, beautiful dongettes, and -- yes -- their own dongers.

"Always loved hardwood," Nate said, voice husky with lust. Looking down, his dilated pupils instantly shrunk back. Yes, there were many exposed penises around them, but not the most important one.

Nick returned the sad expression.

The vault-dweller sighed, lacing his fingers with Nick's. "Let's just-- Let's just make the most of this trip." Pulling out pistols, they entered Nukaworld.

  


After the bloodbath, the two men collected themselves.

"So, what are you up for," asked Valentine.

"I'm still hungry."

The synth looked confused. "Still? Implying you've told me before."

"I did. 'Ich habe hunger'. Remember, Nicky?"

"Well, alright," Nick replied, filled with doubt. Under his breath, he muttered, "You did no such thing. I'd remember you telling me."

Hand in hand, they scanned the area.

"There's an expression: Einen Apfel und ein Ei. That's how cheap this food is."

"Come again?"

"This food costs Peanuts. Look over there! Popcorn: Only $300!"

"It's free, sweetheart."

"No, Nick! No more five-finger discounts. You should know better!"

Something caught Nate's eye. "I..."

"You what?"

"Want... my..."

"Your what, Nate?"

"Baby back, baby back, baby back. I want my baby back, baby back..."

The robot frowned deeply. "Oh! Nate, I'm so sorr--"

"Ribs!"

"Oh, you want ribs, huh?" Nick chuckled.

From a vendor's stand, Nate pulled a serving of ribs out. Incredibly moldy, the green material crumbled between Nate's fingers. "Delicious!" The man took a big bite. It melted on his tongue. "I'm in Heaven!"

"You will be, if you keep eating that stuff." The detective shook his head. "Red meat is incredibly unhealthy, Nate."

Sucking his fingers, Nate said, "Huh?"

"Nevermind," Nick answered, leaning in for a smooch.

The two exchanged a kiss. As they did so, the sharp sound of a piano filled the area. Pulling away, in unison they said, "Wha???"

"What the Hell," Nick exclaimed.

The carousel was active.

"Shit, Nick. Looks like we didn't kil-- I mean euthenize all the Raiders."

Guns out, they approached the ride. "Who's there?"

Spinning slowly, they caught glimpse of a ginger chick, and some dude no one cared about.

"This feels... vaguely familiar."

"Nate, is this another reference."

"You bet your sweet bippy it is."

The ride spun around again, this time the two were rutting frantically. A sad, feral ghoul clown was watching the inappropriate display.

"Should we run? Should we hide?"

"Nate, snap out of it!"

"Look!"

A Supermutant Suicider was running towards the pair.

"Should... should we warn them?"

"Too late."

Pieces of the Carousel fell from the sky dramatically, as the smoldering pile... smouldered.

There, where the carousel and the ginger chick that was totally not a reference used to be, was a metal door in the ground. It read “Eden – No Girls Allowed”.

“Hmmmmmm sounds like a misogynist lives in there, Nicky.”

“Should we investigate?”

“I've said it before and I will say it again. Yehaw.”

The two detectives tried to open the door, but it was inaccessible.

“Well, Nate, got any tricks up your anal sleeve for this one?”

“You bet.”

They suddenly appeared on the other side of the door.

“Its all about that console command, that console command, no issues.”

“No singing, more like it.”

Nate frowned at the top of his lungs and moved forward. They were in a long tunnel with displays of every single in game item on the walls. There was everything imaginable on the walls. They didn't dare take anything in case it was a trap.

They walked down the hallway for what seemed like hours before they reached a door. They opened it and were hit with a huge surprise. There in the middle of the room was a huge computer system with a tiny man sitting at the controls.

“Hey, what is this place?”

The tiny man jumped out of the seat and pulled out a microphone.

“How did you find me?”

“You must know about console commands.”

“Yeah, I made this game.”

Nate and Nick froze. Could it be?

“Are you saying you're...Todd “God” Howard?”

“Theeeee very same! I, Todd Howard, keeper of promises, teller of content, face of game creation, and totally not the biggest liar that has ever existed!”

Nick leaned in and spoke in Nate's ear, “wow this guy is really something.”

Nate stepped forward and raised his voice.

“Listen here you communist son of a bitch!”

“Easy, easy! My ears are sensitive from all of this computering I do!”

“Look, since you're Todd God, you are the one that is causing this!”

Nate grabbed Nick's zipper and pulled with all of his might, but nothing happened.

“I didn't see that. Please come back with a real issue.”

Todd Howard went back to his computering.

Nate turend to Nick. “Honey buns, I'm gonna need you to turn away and put these on. Hubby is gonna get a little violent.” Nate handed him a contraption made out of two souvenir teddy bears connected to some wire. Nick put them over his ears and Nate walked up to Todd.

“Todd, fella, can we talk?”

“Go away. I am too busy pirating NHL 1991 or something.”

“Why do you hurt me this way, Todd?”

“You? Do you think you matter?”

“Yes, yes I do. Hey, you kinda remind me of someone.”

“Huh?”

“Say 'roundabout'”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

“R-rou-I'll be the rouuuuundabout!”

“I knew it!”

“Its just the voice! I'm not really Jon Anderson!”

“Sounds like something Jon Anderson would say.”

Nate lifted up the small man and threw him to the ground.

“Why do you ignore us!?”

“Because I have real fans to cater to!”

Todd pointed to a picture on the wall. It was a portrait of a bunch of men in vault suits.

“Do you really think those are the only people that play your vidya game?”

“What's a woman. What's a woman. What's a, what's a woman woman?”

“Oh man.”

Nate picked Todd up and walked him over to Nick. He tapped Nick on the shoulder and Nick pulled off the ear muffs (Ha! That's a woman).

“What do ya need, Nate?”

“Go to the hallway and find a 55 gallon drum and a whole lotta acid. Oh, and some rope.”

“No problemo captain.”

Nate brought Todd back to the computer.

“Alright buddy, how do I run this thing?”

“You cannot just run the masterputer! It has to have the Todd Howard touch!”

“Bullshit, give it up!”

“No!”

Nate pushed the little man into the captain's chair and held his hands to the keyboard.

“YOU WORK THAT MAGIC AND MAKE THAT NICKY BOOTY BOUNCE!”

Todd pressed a few keys and Nick Valentine came twerking into the room with a barrel under one arm and a huge bottle of acid attached to a rope in the other.

“I likey what I see, Todd. I likey a lot.”

“I don't.”

“Grow up. Now, unlock the mysterious cavern of the Robit and let the Great Old Ones do what they do best...FUCK!”

“I cannot do that.”

“WHAT!”

Nate pressed the little hands harder against the keyboard.

“Ow, ow!”

“Feel the pain, Todd, because we have been feeling it since November 2015.”

“It is impossible!”

“Do it, Todd Coward!”

He pressed the hands even harder against the master keyboard.

“Fine!”

Todd slapped the keyboard a little, in the same fashion that Holy_Leonards does when he is feeling particularly creative. Then, a light. It was not coming from any logical source other than Nicky V.'s..uhhh...V? Maybe his D? Maybe his, whatever, let's find out!

“Let's see what is under the hood!”

Nate let go of the tiny hands and went over to his husband. He slowly moved towards the glowing crotch, angelic choir singing and everything. He reached down. As he did, Todd slapped the keyboard and everything went back to being dull.

“Ass!”

Nate charged Todd and snatched him up.

“Nick, wrap him up.”

They set up the barrel and filled it with acid. They looped the rope over a solid pipe in the ceiling and tied Todd up, hanging him upside down over the barrel of acid.

“You fix this unromanceable mess right now or Todd gets it!”

There it is folks: the ultimatum. Will Nate be happy? Will Todd live? Or will he disappoint fans yet again, and leave the dynamic duo no choice

Tune in next week to "Todd, You Shit-Sucking Imbecilic Moron! Look at Me When I'm Talking to You!"

Same bat time, Same bat channel.

Holy_Leonards literally got a muscle contraction writing this. Feel guilty, Todd? I doubt it, Soulless Monster.


End file.
